Leftovers
by Eponymous Rose
Summary: A collection of short ficlets, generally written for prompts on tumblr. Any pairings, any characters.
1. Chapter 1

First line provided by akisawana on tumblr: "Tucker wished, suddenly and desperately, for his father."

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><p>See, the thing about Wash was that the guy would probably live out the rest of his days eating nothing but military-issue ration bars. Given the chance, he'd stoically chew his way to the eventual heat-death of the universe. And Caboose might have a sweet tooth big enough to bore down to the center of the planet, but put him anywhere near an oven and just, you know. Fire. Death. Explosions. Screaming. All that good stuff.<p>

So basically what this all boiled down to was that Tucker was currently the only person in Blue Base who, as the son of a moderately famous pastry chef, had the first idea how to bake a cake.

"Listen up, fuckers," he said. Caboose blinked at him. The rest of the room echoed emptily "Fucker," he amended. "I'm sick of what passes for food around here, so I am gonna bake a cake, I am gonna do it once, it is gonna be fucking incredible, and we are never gonna speak of it again."

Caboose's voice rose to a deafening stage-whisper. "Is it Agent Wash's birthday?"

"Sure," Tucker said. "That works. Fuck it. Happy birthday, Agent Asshole. And what I need from you, Caboose, is—"

"To be as far away from the kitchen as humanly possible," Caboose intoned.

"Farther," said Tucker, checking one of the base's cupboards for something he could use as a substitute for eggs. "Why are all the cupboards full of beef jerky?"

He glanced up. The kitchen counter was, impossibly, on a whole lot of fire. "Tucker did it," Caboose said.

Tucker sighed and rested his forehead against the cheap plastic of the wall, trying to drag back childhood memories of a warm kitchen and raised, laughing voices. The smell of fresh dough. The smell of burning sugar. He wondered, vaguely, whether the Sangheili had pasty chefs.

Then he sighed and reached out for the extinguisher, which was, of course, already on fire.


	2. Chapter 2

First line provided by hatepig on tumblr: "As the wave of kittens hit them, Grif knew in his heart that this was Kaikaina's fault."

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><p>"You did this," he said.<p>

Kai appeared to consider the possibility, then said, solemnly, "Nuh-uh."

"You _did this_," Grif said. He was vaguely aware that his voice was cracking with anger. He held up his controller, which rattled ominously as wave three of kittens filled the screen. "There is no fucking way we hit the Ultimate Kitten Explosion Chapter in two fucking minutes. I still had like twelve Rainbow Pods to uncover before we advanced! What the fuck?"

Kai brightened. "You're still a boring completionist when you play video games, Dex. That's nice. I missed that."

"You did it on purpose! I needed that achievement!"

Simmons poked his head into the room, like he wasn't standing in the hallway the whole time listening to them play. Fucking nerd. "Hey, uh," he said. "You know you can just wait for Ultimate Kitten Rainbow Pod Explosion and capture the pods then, right?"

"Yeah, but then you only get half credit."

"Sure, but there are twice as many—"

"Sorry, I didn't get a degree in nerd math."

"It's _simple division_."

Kai made a noise that was a lot like "Grahugggggh" only with more vowels and disdain. Then she said. "You guys are so _boring_," and reached out, unplugged the console, and started across the room with it, snatching up Grif's controller as she went.

Grif stared after her. "Hey, that's mine! It took me forever to buy that!"

"I built it!" Simmons said. "It's mine!"

"Nah," Kai said. "I'm gonna go take it to Grey Base and ask Tex if she wants to play. And trust me, you don't want to get between Tex and her video games."

She left. Grif stared. Simmons said, softly, "You know, it's double the number of pods, so even though they're worth half as much—"

"Oh, shut up."


	3. Chapter 3

First line provided by ramblingredrose on tumblr: "It had gotten to the point where Carolina thought they were completely screwed."

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><p>In a quiet moment, she rounded on her team. "Poor defensive positioning. Friendly fire. What the hell are we even doing out there?"<p>

"Plotting revenge on whoever invented gravity hammers," Wyoming said. He was breathing heavily, Carolina noticed, and resolved to start leaning on him to actually keep to his prescribed training regimen. He'd been slipping, lately. They'd all been slipping.

"At this point," Carolina said, "We'd probably wind up completely annihilating ourselves before getting said revenge."

"That's a little harsh," Wash said.

South standing behind him, elbowed North, who glowered. "Seriously, you guys are terrible," she said.

"South," Carolina said, "is the only valuable asset on this team at the moment."

"Oh, come on," said York. "I got the assist on that shot."

"_I_ got the assist," said CT. "You took a direct hit to the forehead, distracting them enough for South and me to slip through."

"Well," said York, "I assisted, didn't I? Better than Maine putting that guy in the infirmary!"

Everybody looked at Maine. Maine shrugged. "Sorry," he said.

Carolina stared at him. Stared at all of them. Sighed, and shouldered her gravity hammer. "Okay, kids. Back to work. The 14th UNSC Invitational Grifball Tournament isn't gonna lose itself."


	4. Chapter 4

First line provided by thought- on tumblr: "'Okay,' Connie says as soon as Tex enters the room, "don't freak out."

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><p>To punctuate the statement, Connie puts on her most winning smile which, admittedly, is looking a little frazzled. Tex just stares at her. With the helmet, she's got a poker face to rival Maine's.<p>

Finally, Tex says, "You told me you needed my help."

"Yup," Connie says. Her voice squeaks a little. Maybe.

"With—" Tex peers past her into her quarters. "Six suggestively shaped balloons, three, no, four small rodents, and what looks like it might actually be a live goat."

"The hamsters got out," Connie says, striving for a casual tone. "It's a thing. They're smarter than they look, apparently."

"Okay," Tex says. Her voice is admirably level. "And you need my help why?"

The goat bleats, and Connie shushes it. "You heard about the prank war?"

"Yes," says Tex, cautiously, but she uncrosses her arms and steps into the room, neatly capturing one of the runaway hamsters and holding it in her cupped hands.

Connie grins. "You want in?"


End file.
